


Magpie

by Weaponized



Series: Invisibuck [1]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 10k of porn, AU-gust 2020, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes takes spy to a new level, Hair-pulling, Invisibility, Invisible Bucky Barnes, Jarvis (Iron Man movies) is a Good Bro, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shrunkyclunks, Steve Rogers conducting a strip search, some bondage if you squint, thats it thats the plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:33:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26120440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weaponized/pseuds/Weaponized
Summary: "I am picking up life signs indicative of a human adult male.”“In my bedroom? That sounds unlikely,” Steve said, dryly.“Nevertheless sir, my sensors are usually highly accurate.”Steve hauled himself out of the chair on his balcony and silently slid the door open back to the interior of the apartment, high above the baking streets of Manhattan. He lowered his voice considerably, “What are they doing, and how did they get in?”JARVIS’s voice emitted quietly from the wall closest to his left ear, “The thing is, captain, the intruder appears to be invisible.”
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Invisibuck [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1984928
Comments: 120
Kudos: 594
Collections: AUgust 2020





	Magpie

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this as a response to the "Superheroes/Superpowers" prompt for [AU-gust](https://twitter.com/AU_gust_2020). Things got out of hand and this happened. This being 10K of porn. Porn involving invisible Bucky Barnes. INVISIBARNES, if you will.

“Captain Rogers, sir–”

Steve was wrenched from his silent contemplation of the first line of the first page of a book he had no interest in.

“There appears to be a–,” JARVIS paused, “disturbance. Occurring in your bedroom.”

“What kind of disturbance?” These days, Steve couldn’t find the will to summon a tone of confusion, even when unquantified problems appeared in his swear-to-god bedroom. The world lately just did its thing around him and he simply did his best not to be outraged. Like plastic packaging that was impossible to open without exerting the same force as it took to disarm a tank. He had accidentally broken multiple pepper grinders while attempting to remove them from their prisons of plastic.

“I’m afraid I’m not sure, captain, but I am picking up life signs indicative of a human adult male.”

“In my bedroom? That sounds unlikely,” Steve said, dryly.

“Nevertheless sir, my sensors are usually highly accurate.”

Steve hauled himself out of the chair on his balcony and silently slid the door open back to the interior of the apartment, high above the baking streets of Manhattan. He lowered his voice considerably, “What are they doing, and how did they get in?”

JARVIS’s voice emitted quietly from the wall closest to his left ear, “The thing is, captain, the intruder appears to be invisible.”

“Appears to be-” Steve broke off and raised his eyebrows. “There’s an invisible man in my bedroom. Alright. I’m taking your word for it that this isn’t a prank, JARVIS.”

Seeing no more reason to waste time, Steve padded barefoot towards the door to his room, which stood ajar. As he moved, he scanned the bare, while walls and minimal clutter that formed a thin layer of Steve-ness throughout the apartment. Despite living in the tower for almost two years, the space still strongly resembled a play area for Miss Pepper Potts’ interior design hobby, rather than a real home. Still, that made it easy for Steve to catalogue that nothing in the living room or kitchen had moved since he had stepped outside.

As soon as he got close enough, he put one hand on the doorknob and one on the jamb to the bedroom, supersized bulk instantly obliterating the weak light from the hallway. “Alright, invisible intruder, I’m afraid I didn’t schedule for an imaginary playdate in my bedroom today, so you’re just going to have to show yourself.”

Through the cool gloom, he heard a voice mutter, “Oh _fuck_.”

Steve felt the air move a moment later and snapped around to make a wild grab at nothing. Miraculously, he felt his fingers close on fabric and gave a hearty wrench. “Not so fast.”

“Ugh,” came the voice from nearby his knees. It seemed that the transparent burglar had tried to sneak by him on hands and knees and Steve had grabbed him by the waistband.

He pulled upwards and got his hand around what felt like a bicep. Whatever clothing the invisible intruder was wearing, it was stretchy and soft. Steve grasped the arm strongly enough to send a message.

Then he doubled over in pain when something hard and uncomfortably sharp slammed into his left kidney.

“Ha. Take _that_ , Captain America,” said a disembodied voice.

The creature almost slithered out of his grasp, but thankfully the fear of having to admit to Tony Stark that Steve let a little, invisible boy give him the slip inspired the necessary push to realign his grip in time. This time with his whole arm around an invisible neck.

The visually absent, but quite solid, mass gurgled.

“Is that my shield you have under there?” Steve asked as his hand collided with a large slab of familiar metal. Fingers scrambled uselessly at his elbow where it was wedged under what felt like a chin.

“Guh,” was the only answer he received, but soon enough the shield burst into visibility right before his eyes as Steve gave it a tug.

JARVIS chose that moment to step in, “Captain, I have locked your front and balcony doors. Would you like me to call security? Or one of your colleagues?”

The intruding ‘human adult male’ description he got from JARVIS initially had put Steve on full guard. Humans these days came in all sorts of sizes and power levels, as Steve himself was intimately acquainted with, and yet he had to act quickly or risk alerting his uninvited guest his detection. Even with JARVIS’s help, finding and containing an invisible person actively trying to avoid them would be a challenge. Struggling to contain the writhing mass in his arms, juggling his shield and attempting to get over how weird it was to be holding an invisible body, Steve only managed, “No, no. Thanks JARVIS. Chaotic Chameleon here is going to do some explaining before I let him turn the security department’s worst nightmare into reality.”

“I assure you, sir, the tower’s security personnel are well equipped–”

“Let me go! You fucking–” there was a wet choking noise as Steve adjusted his grip, “Guh.”

“Ah, ah. No need to talk.”

Now that the invisible body was aligned with his own, Steve could feel that it wasn’t quite as small as he’d first thought. Maybe invisibility was slimming. The head pressing against his collar bone was adult-sized and heavy, and the waist under his palm was padded with a mass of nicely developed musculature. It felt pretty good under his palm. Resisting the urge to sink his fingers in deeper and pull the firm, warm mass closer into his embrace, Steve was reminded very forcefully that it had been a very long time since he had touched anyone like this. He quickly pulled his fingers away, while keeping his arm locked in place around a small waist.

“You done feeling me up yet, nasty old man,” came a hoarse whisper from his shoulder, as if the ghost knew his thoughts. Maybe he was a telepath, too. That would be bad. But if he was then presumably Steve would have stood no chance of catching him.

“Not sure. Got any weapons hidden in this tight little number?” Steve punctuated his words with a pinch to the smooth fabric, pulling it and letting it snap back down. Then he wrapped his arm more securely around the waist and released the neck, flipping his grip to lift the invisible intruder onto his shoulder.

Ignoring the undignified squawk of protest, he walked through to the kitchen area and began looking through the cupboards. “Now, either you exercise your visibility muscles or I’m going to throw a bag of flour over you. This fabric feels nice and soft. Think it’ll look great when I turn you into a snowman.”

“OK, OK! Calm down, you thundering national embarrassment, Jesus.”

The body flickered into view. With torso and head thrown over Steve’s shoulder, the first thing Steve got a good look at was a nicely rounded ass, a pair of thighs encased in shiny black fabric and a multitude of elastic straps. Held under the straps were a few choice items, including Steve’s most obnoxious watch, that he never wore (a gift from Tony), a couple of rolls of currency he’d had stashed in the drawer by his bed, his wallet, and his loaded Glock.

“Oh, look at this,” Steve slid the Glock free, snapping the elastic back down mercilessly, “my favourite gun.” Leaving the safety firmly in place, he nuzzled it into the hollow just behind the hip wriggling on his shoulder.

“Put me down!”

“I don’t think I will, my little imperceptible idiot, you might decide to go all non-existent on me again.”

“I won’t!”

“Y’know, I’m going to go ahead and not believe anything you say, how about that.” Steve moved around the kitchen island and headed for the living area. Luckily, he had an excellent 1970s armchair from Pepper’s meticulously curated catalogue of period furniture and it featured a very sturdy wooden frame. Maybe there was something to be said for having a billionaire CEO kit out your apartment after all. Personally, he found the 70s theme like looking at the 30s through a very warped looking glass, so familiar and yet also strangely textured and full of plastic. But none of the very few visitors to his place had commented on the furniture, so who was Steve to complain. He also had a couple of zip ties from the drawer, kindly planted in his kitchen drawer by Natasha. He truly was lucky for the ladies in his life.

Steve dumped the now-visible burglar on the floor and quickly relocated his grip from waist to wrists, yanking them together and against the chair leg to be secured. There was plenty of writhing and struggling, but he was Captain America, he barely felt it.

“What the fuck! What are you doing, you raggeddy fucking bastard.”

“That’s not very nice, considering you broke into my apartment and tried to steal my favourite gun—and my shield.” Steve, satisfied that the wrists were secure, sat back on the sofa.

Mr. Invisibility immediately went invisible again.

“Oh I see, you’re shy,” Steve rolled his eyes and made to get back up. “Too bad. I better go get that bag of flour then.”

There was a gasp of outrage from the floor, “This is a mint-condition example of Saarinen’s tulip chair, of Star Trek fame – an original run probably – if you’re dumb enough to throw flour on it, I’ll laugh.”

Steve barely got a glimpse at the face of his unexpected guest before he had gone back to playing hide and seek, emphasis on the hide, but the impression he got was of wide, owlish eyes and a mobile mouth. “So what are you then,” he settled back on the sofa cushions, willing enough to let the flour wait in the wings, “other than a leading authority on interior design and 1970s furniture, apparently.”

“What does that mean, ‘what are you’, what does it look like I am, some kind of alien?”

Steve gestured at the general emptiness of the floor, “It doesn’t _look_ like you’re much of anything. And nothing much surprises me these days, I’d give it about a 40% chance you are alien.” Truly, he had met more aliens than he cared to and extra-terrestrial possibility did not awe him any longer.

“Oh sure, I’m from the desolate planet Brooklyn. Where not even Captain America dares to tread—in fear of being defeated by the dreaded signing of autographs.”

“Cocky little shit, aren’t you.”

“I still have your wallet right here. Maybe I’ll do some online shopping with your credit card, there’s some Gucci shoes with my name on them.”

Steve rolled his eyes, “JARVIS, stop all my credit cards.”

“Your credit cards and digital funds have been frozen, Captain Rogers, sir.” Good old JARVIS.

There was a thump and what sounded like a wriggle from the floor, “Ugh, of course you would learn just enough about modern technology to act like a complete cock-sucking eejit.”

Trying to put a firm halt on the mirthful feeling in this chest that threatened to put a smile on his face, Steve wagged his finger and put on his Captain America face instead, “You’ve been a very bad boy, no online shopping for you.”

“Oh no, _daddy_ , I didn’t mean it.” There was a dramatic, and very fake, sniff from somewhere under the chair now, “How ever can I make it up to you.”

Steve watched with interest as the chair shifted around a little, clearly being shaken and manhandled by the body attached via zip ties. The annoying thing was, the zip ties had disappeared along with his criminal mastermind, so he couldn’t quite gauge what was being put where, when it came to anatomy.

Suddenly, just when Steve was sure the chair was about to levitate and get carried off as loot, there was a snapping sound, the chair shuddered, and footsteps dashed for the door.

Steve moved with the speed and surety of a man who had previously leaped off roofs and survived. Luckily, his blind confidence paid off (this time), and rather than breaking his nose on the coffee table, he landed on top of a soft and writhing thing that said, “Ugh. Not again. Fuck,” in a strangled, wheezing voice.

Steve kept one hand in at the back of an invisible neck, and shoved himself upright, stradling the small of an unseen back. It was truly one of the strangest sensations of his life, especially because he couldn’t help doing a lot more _feeling_ than he normally would when restraining someone on the floor. Curling his hand into a fist, he quickly placed only the knuckles against the warm flesh, not wanting to put his hands anywhere he really shouldn’t by accident.

“JARVIS, did you get a good look at this little monster while he graced us with his presence earlier? Facial recognition?” He leaned down to hiss near where he guessed an ear was judging by the way he could feel a pulse racing under his fingers, “I want to know who my little intruder really is.”

“Certainly, Captain Rogers. I already took the liberty of gathering what data was readily available following facial scanning. The man currently invisible on the floor of your apartment has several identities registered, but the one I gauge to be the most likely to be genuine is one James Buchanan Barnes, born in Brooklyn, 1990. His various identities have been noted in connection with over 70 successful robberies and heists over the past fifteen years, though he has never been formally charged or arrested.”

“I resent that blatant aspersion on my good character,” was muttered from the floor.

JARVIS continued. “James Barnes was raised by his grandmother following the death of his parents when he was four years old in an accident noted only as a ‘lab explosion’ on the documents of an inquest held in upstate New York. The police never opened a file, but Winifred and George Barnes were both noted physicists engaged in research at Princeton. They were on sabbatical at the time of their deaths, and the lab in question was linked with weapons R&D at the time.”

“Were you made in a lab by your parents with some scientific enhancements, is that it?” Steve didn’t bother to try and direct his gaze anywhere in particular and instead just rested his gaze somewhere on the back of the couch.

“Wow grandpa, just go right in at the deep end, why don’t you. Just because we all know you were a grade-A dumb-fuck who got injected with a super serum for a jolly day out in World War Two doesn’t mean the rest of us want to talk about how fucked up we are.”

That was an unfair assessment, in Steve’s opinion, but he supposed not everyone who was more than the average human had a positive view of their own status as ‘super’. Also if it was true that this particular individual had been experimented on as a child and that those experiments killed his parents, it was likely his opinion of enhancement and being enhanced himself was complicated. Hell, Steve’s opinion was complicated and he volunteered as a consenting adult.

Still, now wasn’t the time for being a counselor, that was Sam’s job. Steve put his hands on his hips. “I put an end to a world war. I can very easily put an end to your smart-ass mouth.”

“Oooh, tough guy,” taunted the voice.

“I suppose, if you won’t show up, I’ll just have to search you for contraband without visuals.”

There was a neat snick then and Steve felt something very sharp and cold prod his left pectoral. “Oh, naughty, naughty,” he made a grab at the wrist, missed, felt his t-shirt slash open along with a shallow burning cut, and fumbled with the surprisingly strong grip on the knife that he accidentally jabbed himself in the palm with. “Right no more toys for you, James Barnes. Timeout.”

He slammed the slender, black, ceramic combat knife on the floor, where it lay, visible, tinged with blood. He slithered his hand down what felt like a left shoulder, arm, wrist, until he had located both hands and pinned them together on the floor. He was not willing to get actually stabbed for an invisible burglar, it was time to get a little more serious.

Beneath him, Barnes made a funny sigh.

Steve began to run his right hand over Barnes’ chest and torso, holding the wrists in his left grip easily. Starting from the top, he ran his fingers through soft, floppy hair that sprang back into curls. He pressed his fingers behind small ears, unpierced. He ran his fingers down the back of the neck, finding nothing more than what felt like a zipper fastening.

He dipped his fingers beneath the collar of the clothing, running them around and finding a tiny, well disguised pocket containing lock picks. He drew them out, watched them take on colour and other visible characteristics, then placed them on the coffee table.

When he returned his hand to the body, he found Barnes was shivering. Gentling his movements a little, he continued a little more slowly. The bold, sarcastic comments had worked well at convincing Steve that he didn’t necessarily need to rouse the entire tower of Avengers, but began to think that they were less a show of confidence and more of a defence mechanism.

He squeezed gently on the wrists encased in his hand, closing his eyes, “I’m not going to hurt you. Unless you try to stab me again.”

In the side seams of the slinky suit, he found two knife holsters which he emptied of their sharp cargo, and pockets containing a smartphone – not Steve’s, presumably Barnes’ own – several credit cards – all Steve’s – and several sets of diamond cufflinks he had never worn but knew were supposed to be in his bedroom dresser. All these items joined the collection on the table.

He moved on to smoothing his hands over the arms. Barnes attempted to wriggle and clamp down, but Steve simply shook him out by the wrists and his captive didn’t get much more than one quick writhe against the floor in before Steve had him stretched out. He made quick work of removing a matte black Casio watch, two Rolexes, a stiletto in a very nifty wrist sheath, and a stretchy band which concealed several keys, a strange gadget with a digital display and multiple brass pins on the back, and a very short, stubby pencil.

“JARVIS, analyse this thing,” Steve requested, putting the digital display on the table before continuing to run his fingers through Barnes’s, checking for any rings or other hand-held objects.

Before JARVIS could respond, Barnes' voice said, “It’s for cracking elevator locks.”

Fingers flexed slightly against Steve’s, like Barnes wanted to grip on and stop his searching fingers from going any further. Steve held the hand in his flat, bending the fingers back just a little. “Oh is it. JARVIS?”

“It does appear to be a code-cracking or scrambling device intended for elevator panels, sir.”

“Very nice,” Steve, satisfied the hands in his were free from any nefarious items, couldn’t help but notice that his captive was breathing a lot faster now than he had been a few minutes earlier. It had been particularly obvious when Barnes spoke. He decided to try some more. “Is that how you scrambled the tower elevators then?”

“No,” came the hesitant response, “I just snuck in with everyone else and then followed a cleaner. Always- Always works.” Barnes was definitely breathless.

Steve let his hands pause their invasive exploration and settle gently against the body beneath him. “I’m going to turn you over now,” he murmured, “and search your back. I know I haven’t found everything you’re hiding yet.”

Steve thought he heard a strangled, “Oh God,” from the floor as he knelt up and quickly flipped the body under him with one hand. Settling back down onto the back of Barnes’ thighs, Steve brought the wrists still in his left grip to rest against the back of a fluffy head and pressed down.

Suddenly, everything became visible. The whole body between his legs flickered and then solidified, like the picture on a TV coming back after a power cut. Steve got a quick look at a head of unruly curls, a pair of tense shoulders and a long, luxurious expanse of back before the display flickered again and Barnes disappeared, shadow and all.

Steve was surprised into stillness, but quickly regained his equilibrium. “I think you liked that,” he whispered, shocked at the realization.

He felt a lot more muscles go tense. It felt nice, actually, but even if his little captive, squirming victim was getting a little too happy about Steve’s hands wandering, he couldn’t do much about it until he had finished his search. He wouldn’t be taken in that easily, even by an ass this good.

The solution, Steve decided, was not to ignore it, but to search it thoroughly. Natasha was always keeping a multitude of things in and around the hip and ass region of her bodysuits. It stood to reason this catsuit-wearing thief who was carrying more knives than Steve had ever seen in one place before may also be hoarding things there.

“Oh my God, what are you _doing_!?” Barnes' voice had gone high as well as breathless and he started writhing again in earnest when Steve’s fingers made a leisurely (but thorough) exploration of his ass.

Finding nothing, Steve took two happy handfuls and said, “Just checking it’s all natural, God given assets down here and you don’t have any more of my credit cards lurking- Ah. What’s this I’ve found?” His fingers hit upon a patch of flesh slightly harder than was strictly natural and after a few scrapes of his fingernails he was able to pry out not just one, but three more credit cards and a wad of Euros from the soft and ample area of thigh just beneath the ass cheek.

“Oops,” Barnes breathed.

Setting the recovered items on the table to take their place in the growing pile, Steve settled his weight a little lower. “We’ve exceeded the number of credit cards I own.”  
“Some of them aren’t yours, there were a lot of pockets in the elevator and their contents’ just happened to fall into my hands.”

Steve leaned over to take a closer look at the new cards in the pile, ignoring the groan of pain or pleasure that came with him putting most of his supercharged weight into the small of Barnes’ back. “Oh would you look at that, this is Agent Barton’s. JARVIS, don’t you dare tell him. I can’t wait to give it back to him personally, so I can laugh in his face for getting pick pocketed. This kind of ammo could buy me months of bow-wielding spy loyalty.”

“As you wish, sir,” JARVIS acknowledged, “However, it might be pertinent to put a pause on all the cards liberated from Mr Barnes’ personage, with your permission, sir.”

“Sure thing, JARVIS. Thanks.” Steve returned his attention to the body beneath him just in time to watch it disappear again. “Now, Barnes, are you struggling to concentrate? You seem distracted. All this flickering like a light parade.”

Barnes didn’t respond verbally, but given that Steve had his face mashed into the floor it wasn’t surprising.

“I don’t trust you not to be holding an arsenal under this suit, so I guess I’ll take it off,” searching with his fingers for the discreet little fastening at the back of the neck which he began tugging.

“Ugh!” Barnes managed, “Is this legal!? Ceiling voice thing, is this legal?”

“Is breaking and entering legal?” Steve countered, then smiled smugly, “JARVIS there’s no need to answer to Barnes, but please do tell him how legal it is for me to apprehend and conduct a thorough search of anyone who breaks into my home.”

“At this point, Captain Rogers, the only laws you may possibly be breaking are those related to sexual harassment, sir.”

“Oh, I see,” Steve snorted. By way of his calculated touches so far, he could firmly say Barnes was enjoying his touches. But harassment of any kind wasn’t Steve’s aim. “Well Barnes,” he paused before dropping his voice, “shall I stop?” He smoothed his palms over the freshly bared expanse of real skin he could feel in the gap he had opened in the suit, digging his fingers in and working at the muscles. He leaned down to bring his mouth close to the skin, breathing on it, “Shall I call security?”

“Uhm,” said Barnes.

“Thought not.”

He wasn’t surprised to find straps here, too, wrapping around the long, muscular torso. There were no more knick knacks or credit cards though, just a couple of knives that Steve carefully extracted and laid aside. He eyed the line of six knives plucked from thin air so far. “Quite some cutting power you’re packing in here.”

“It’s to match my sharp wit,” Barnes muttered.

Determined to get a visual of the thing he had his hands on, Steve once more took a strap in his fingers and let it snap back against the soft flesh he had been enjoying kneading his fingers into. He was rewarded by a hiccup and the torso and extra-tousled head coming back into view. There were a multitude of thin, red lines running over an expanse of pale flesh, indents where knives and elastic had sat too snuggly for too long. Steve ran his fingers over them and felt the responding shiver.

Barnes peeked over his shoulder—just one, large grey eye visible through the frame of his arm, wrist still held tight to the base of his skull. Steve met the gaze, trying not to look too pleased with himself. It seemed Barnes was willing to remain visible a little longer, either that or he was unable to concentrate enough to disappear. Steve luxuriated in staring as long as he wanted, taking in the short, sharp nose and soft brow. Barnes’ body was lithe and long in his grip, and on top of that, just a few square inches of his face were piquing Steve’s curiosity.

Releasing the wrists in his hand, he grabbed handfuls of fabric and flipped Barnes over. “Show me that face,” he narrowed his eyes.

Barnes was stunned for a moment and the curly, brown head almost smacked back into the floor before Steve quickly slipped one hand beneath. Barnes blinked, a blush touching his cheeks when he noticed Steve’s roving gaze, the way he took in everything with hunger.

Now that he wasn’t holding two troublesome wrists out of the way, Steve could use both hands to pat for hidden surprises and keep his captive distracted at the same time. Pulling the stretchy suit over Barnes’ shoulders, he began tugging it downwards, loosing the clips on a variety of straps and belts as he went. The slightly owlish grey eyes continued to gaze up at him and Steve tried to gauge the emotion showing in them, but came up eerily blank.

“I’m not going to do anything to hurt you,” Steve repeated, looking Barnes in the eye this time.

Barnes just blinked and continued to breathe rapidly.

It was all fine and good to be turning his new acquaintance on to the sound of moans and glorious resignation on his living room floor, but he needed to hear some kind of consent before going any further, really. He wasn’t a monster. “I need to hear a word from you,” Steve said slowly. “Just a yes or a no, thank you.”

The quick-fire breaths stopped suddenly and Barnes held his breath for a long moment before breathing out through flared nostrils. “You’re asking about… touching me?”

Steve nodded.

“Ok. I say yes.” The expression on Barnes’ face did not change.

“You sure?” Steve ran his fingers over a nipple already pert from his insistent attentions and felt the responding shiver, “That wasn't the most enthusiastic response I’ve ever had.”

Barnes paused, lips parted for another long moment before answering. “I’m sure. Just… a bit surprised.”

“What, you thought I was going to punish you by raping you? That’s not me. I’m only into it if you are.” Steve said seriously, feeling his chest swell and his chin tilt up.  
Barnes smirked just a little, “I guess that’s not very Captain America is it. Punishing a poor little pickpocket with your monster cock.”

“Noticed, did you,” Steve rolled his hips a little. “You poor little thing. I imagine you must be starving and with so many mouths to feed, what are you to do?” Sarcasm was still his first language, even when the US Army had tried their best with him. Working the poster boy angle hadn’t worked much earlier in their conversation, it was time to put more Steve Rogers on the table.

Barnes wrinkled his sharp little nose and tried not to look pleased.

The hands Steve had previously had to restrain were lying loose and empty on the floor on each side of Barnes' head, fingers opening and closing slowly. He paused to touch one wrist, “I’m going to get off you now, and take back whatever you’ve managed to hide down here,” he patted one thigh.

As he moved, swinging his weight back off the semi-lethal hip bones he had been gently compressing into the floor, Barnes seemed to come back to himself a little, and moved his arms to rise from the floor. He looked more than a little ruffled, hair disordered and his skin-tight suit half off.

Steve leaned his weight onto one hand on Barnes’ ankle, beginning to pick at a tightly laced pair of sneakers. “Ah, ah. No moving or I’ll have to tie you up again, and this time I won’t be nice about it.”

There were a dozen more valuable little stashes in the straps and pockets on the thighs of the suit so Steve continued to add to his pile and peel lycra from pale skin as he went.

After a few minutes of watching Steve work and clearly trying to assume an air of cool-headedness, Barnes spoke. “You don’t get many visitors up here, I guess. If you’re willing to ravish the first person to drop in, even if it’s to rob you.”

Steve eyed the tight shorts that had been revealed as he tugged the last little bit, freeing the jumble of fabric and elastic from its grip on Barnes’ body. How likely was it that underwear was also a home for stolen property, he wondered. Putting the suit aside, next to the pair of well-worn, black sneakers he had already pulled off one by one, Steve removed one final ankle sheath and its disturbingly serrated occupant and placed it at the end of the row of knives.

“As it happens, Mr Barnes, my visitors aren’t really any of your business. Just like all eight of my credit cards, my collection of unwanted gifts and my shield are also none of your business.”

Steve continued inspecting the shorts, levelling his gaze on what was clearly no small level of arousal. As he enjoyed the view, it was suddenly stolen from him. He clamped his grip tight on the ankle in his hand and held on, but there was no tugging or fuss. It seemed that Barnes was either offended by what Steve had said, or he was shy of being caught so turned on.

“You shy?” Steve gentled his tone.

“This is a little unfair, is all. I’m practically naked and you’re so… covered up.”

“I think you’re winning at being covered up right now.”

Invisible fingers made contact with Steve’s hair and he flinched and almost leaped backwards. Barnes had clearly used the cover of invisibility to sit up and start moving everything but his ankle around. The fingers contracted and relaxed against his head in a slow, soothing pulse. “I thought I said to stay still,” Steve murmured.

“I’ve been so good, isn’t it my turn to touch yet?” Barnes almost hid his apprehension, but Steve could feel the fingers shaking a little.

“Turn? You were waiting your turn, were you?”

“Not every day a hot man decides to strip search you on the floor of his Manhattan apartment, I’m just trying to take full advantage.” Barnes' voice dripped into his ear with a huff of sweet, warm breath, suggesting that he had contorted himself to lean up right next to Steve’s ear.

“Not sure you deserve any rewards for attempting to rob me,” Steve pointed out. Still, the sensation of soft, teasing fingertips on his scalp was very enjoyable even if, “It’s really strange not to be able to see you right now.”

Barnes hummed close to his neck, “You never had a solo wet dream?”

“But I’m not solo right now, am I?”

“Just figured, everyone likes to live out their wet dreams.”

Barnes was sliding his hands through Steve’s hair in rhythmic strokes. It felt great, and while he found himself wanting to close his eyes and give up control of his head and neck to the soft thief’s hands, Steve couldn’t shake off the sense that was a terrible idea. But more pressingly, he couldn’t shake the desire to see.

He pulled on the ankle in his grip and felt Barnes’ hands slither free as he fell backwards. “I prefer the dreams where I can look my partner in the eye,” Steve said, as firmly as he could manage. He pulled his fingers upwards, tentatively, trying to keep his hands gentle, until he could confidently feel the main bulk of the invisible body, even if he couldn’t see it. Then he positioned himself opposite, lying on the floor. “Won’t you let me see you?”

“Let me see a little more of you, and I’ll let you get your eyes back on me,” was whispered from what Steve had thought was thin air. Barnes kept getting closer without him knowing how. Or hearing a thing.

He felt a ghostly hand pluck at the hem of his shirt. “Alright then,” Steve sat back up and pulled his shirt off in one, careless movement, tossing it away. Then he pushed his sweats off, too, kicking them away. Then he lay back, realising that for the first time since catching the sneaky ghost, he had let Barnes go.

He waited, holding his breath, flat on the floor. That had been a pretty careless oversight, but now that he had extracted not only every stolen item, but also most of Barnes’ clothes and his personal items, Steve supposed he really didn’t have much right to keep the thief captive unless he wanted to be.

Just as his heart was starting to thud with horror, he felt the air stir and light, cool fingers flattened against his ribcage. Steve felt his breath leave his lungs in a great sigh of mixed relief and surprise.

Above him, a deceptively angelic face appeared. “You think I’d left you all alone?”

It was Steve’s turn to flush, “The thought did cross my mind.”

Barnes cautiously maneuvered himself over Steve’s thighs and oh-so-gently settled his weight down. It was a devastating view. The lean torso, criss-crossed with pink lines, muscular thighs barely brushing Steve’s hip bones and, most distracting of all, the beguiling face, which appeared so innocent and still. Until you remembered that this man had successfully snuck into one of the most secure buildings in the world without even batting an eye. Disconcertingly though, Steve felt himself responding just as much to that fact as he did to the sight of a nearly-naked man in his lap. He was very much attracted to beautiful people, but it seemed he was even more attracted to beautiful people who managed to hoodwink world-class security systems and stymy the world’s most advanced AI.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Barnes’ lashes flicked up and down as he took in Steve’s bared skin, gently smoothing one hand up to cup a rounded pectoral, “even though this is a prize I’d love to slip in my pocket and make off with.”

“The height of praise, from a cat burglar.” Steve flexed his abs shamelessly and was rewarded by a small smile. There was no shyness in the fingers that slowly searched over his muscles, but there was hesitance, and a sort of innocence. Barnes lingered over things with an intensity that was a little intimidating even for a man in a body gifted to him by science.

Fine fingers tipped with short nails settled gently against Steve’s neck, slowly smoothing up against his jaw and towards his mouth. Barnes’ eyes followed, curiously watching the way his own fingers traversed.

Letting his tongue dip from his mouth, Steve licked a tiny patch on the salty tip of one finger. The curious gaze on him intensified. He watched as Barnes parted his own lips, a pink tongue appearing for a moment and leaving a wet sheen on plump, pink lips.

“Can I sit up a little?”

Barnes narrowed his eyes, then started to lean back.

Steve lifted his hands to place them on a narrow ribcage, “No, no, stay,” he tried to rise slowly from the floor, but ended up moving more quickly than he intended and suddenly Barnes was tucked right in his lap, snug. They breathed each other in and made intense eye contact for a moment, before Steve got hopelessly distracted by the pink hint of Barnes’ tongue dipping past his lips once more, and oh fuck, he wanted that.

Aware that a pair of large, sharp eyes were watching him very carefully, it wasn’t hard to put on a little show. Steve licked his lips, smoothed his thumbs along the gentle dip between ribs and stomach. Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Barnes’. They were soft and pillowy, cool.

A long moment passed before Steve could bring himself to pull back.

Barnes’ eyes were closed now, and his lips were slightly parted. Steve didn’t bother to wait, pushing his hands into the flexing spine, pulling his prize closer, right into his chest. Their noses bumped as Steve dived back in to kiss again, hungry. He felt the body in his arms begin to melt and held tighter. This time they reacted to one another, Barnes’ hands coming alive to grip at Steve’s hair and back.

Sliding his hand up over delicate bumps in a tantalising row, Steve positioned his hands firmly at the back of Barnes’ neck and pulled, slipping his tongue between the lips on his. He was wrapped all around, arms a vice the little thief had no hope of escaping. It tasted delicious.

Eventually, after satisfying himself enough that he had turned his own knees to jelly, Steve pulled them both down onto the floor, bracing his feet. Barnes’ hips met his in a satisfying grind and they were both hard, both flushed and breathless.

Barnes was quiet, even as he arched and rolled his hips, hair falling into those grey eyes and Steve couldn’t help breaking the silence with a groan.

Sliding one hand up and down a long spine, even while the other stayed pressed firmly to the back of a warm neck, Steve pressed two more light kisses to damp lips, then a third. He felt Barnes wriggle a little, testing how firm his grip was. The answer was: inescapable. There was no way to escape these arms once you were in them.

“Where exactly is this going, Captain America?” was mumbled into his neck. “I really didn’t have you down as the dashing James Bond type, luring innocent thieves in with your irresistible charms and perfectly formed ass.”

For a moment, nothing moved. And every muscle Steve could feel against him began to slowly tense, as if the words had been wrong. Soon enough though, he found the breath for a laugh, “It’s going as far as you’ll let me go. Please.”

“Oh, so polite,” Barnes relaxed again.

He seemed to be nervous about… speaking? Joking?

Very slowly, communicating his movements, Steve rolled them over, off the hardwood and onto the outrageous shaggy rug that matched the rest of Pepper’s highly accurate 70s styling. Once he had Barnes beneath him, stretched out and looking flustered, he snuck one hand between their bodies to rub his fingers over the cottony bulge that had been enticingly snug against his hip.

“I’m going to suck your dick,” Steve whispered.

Barnes’ eyes widened to saucers and the rise and fall of his chest became slightly laboured, “Oh, wow.”

It sounded positive, so Steve rose up, peeling the thighs that had become latched around him off and gently pulling them apart. He kept his eyes up, even as his hands delved down, slipping inside the skin-tight, black underwear and easing it gently downwards. All of Barnes’ skin was soft and pale, like it never saw sunlight – which, Steve supposed, it probably didn’t. Did UV rays penetrate invisibility? He wondered absently how long or often Barnes was visible. JARVIS had mentioned that he had a lot of different identities, which he presumably used to further his thieving conquests. Was he a lone operative or was he part of some kind of organisation? It seemed to be that anyone more than average was claimed and given purpose by some organisation or another—even Steve. These thoughts ran absently through Steve’s mind as he moved his hands along soft skin.

First one leg, then the other, was pulled up. Underwear went the way of all the other ill-fated things Barnes had been wearing – landing on the coffee table. Only then, with one leg slung over his shoulder and the other held in his palm, did Steve let his eyes run down the squirming body.

“You really want to disappear right now, don’t you?”

“So bad,” Barnes gasped.

“But then you’d be stealing this view from me,” Steve said as he trailed his eyes over sharp hip bones and the pink, swollen length of Barnes’ cock.

Steve sank down further onto the floor, ignoring the way the carpet burned him, and immediately put his tongue on it, licking at the head. He squeezed at one lean thigh as he licked, enjoying the way Barnes alternated between squirming and pausing to pant.

He wasn’t exactly a connoisseur of sucking cock – frankly Steve wasn’t much of a professional at any part of sex except the heavy-lifting part, which he had down cold – but he had enough skill to provide Barnes’ dick with a thorough introduction to the back of his throat. He was enthusiastic about putting things in his mouth, even if he did make a mess. He was certainly making a mess of the body under his mouth this time, as Barnes seemed to lose control of his voice at last and began to make soft, wet sounds that were almost, ‘ _please_ ’s.

He knew things were progressing well when hips thrust up into his face and he was gagged a little by the forceful slide of cock down his throat. Gasping for breath, he pulled off, looking up.

“Sorry,” was whispered from nothingness. Barnes had somehow managed to vanish mid-blow.

“Barnes. If you aren’t back at full visibility when I count to three,” Steve tightened his grip on both thighs, “I’m going to take it as a personal insult, tie you up, and call security after all.”

Trying to keep his mirth from showing too much on his face, he gathered what he could comfortably feel of the body beneath him in his arms and slowly pulled himself to his knees. “One.”

There was a little squirming, but thanks to super strength it didn’t matter that he mostly had Barnes by the thighs when he stood up. “Two.”

“OK, OK!!”

Barnes reappeared, face bright red, hair almost dragginging on the floor still where he dangled from Steve’s grip. His thighs were clamped tight to Steve’s sides, ankles hooked tight in the small of his back. He was certainly bendy, Steve noted, the rubberiness of youth honed into something that was probably quite handy when your interests revolved around sneaking, stealing and spying.

“Good boy,” Steve praised, hiking the slinky waist a little higher in his arms and beginning the short walk to the bedroom while Barnes squeaked and then moaned something unintelligible.

The bed was unmade, but Barnes had already got closely acquainted with the deepest contents of Steve’s sock drawer, so he didn’t feel much guilt tipping the blushing body into the mess of bedclothes and blankets. Pushing him face down into the sheets, Steve climbed right over him, pinning his arms tight to a skinny rib cage within a frame of thick, supersoldier forearms. Burying one hand in dark, luxurious hair, Steve fastened the other around a slack jaw. Laying some lingering kisses to the exposed ear and cheekbone, Steve let himself luxuriate in the full length of flesh against his.

They fit together well, Steve’s cock pressed into the perfect dip of soft ass, smothering every part of the body beneath him in heat and touch.

“If I touch you all over,” Steve whispered, “there’s no point in being invisible.”

Knees braced, Barnes was pushing back, up against him, encouraging, refusing to simply lie flat and let himself be humped into the bed. Barnes was gasping and rutting very enthusiastically into Steve’s tight embrace.

“I’m gonna fuck you just like this,” Steve said, hot breath steaming up against the heated skin of Barnes’ neck.

It was easy to reach for the drawer and root around a bit until he found his mostly-full bottle of lube and the single condom that lurked in there. Steve hadn’t exactly felt free to just invite anyone over, and after initially exploring what it meant to be bisexual in the new century, Steve had slowed his sexual activities to the point of non-existance without even realising it. As he peeled himself back up from the delicious warmth of creamy skin, though, he began to wonder very seriously why he had been condemning himself to sleeping alone when bodies like this one could lie beside him. Or under him. Or on him. He admired the stretch of glossy, pale back laid out before him again, just as it had been earlier on the floor of the living room, only sweatier now.

Leaning back down, he stroked hair back from a flushed face and looked into Barnes’ blissful expression. He clicked the top of the lube bottle open without looking and tipped a generous amount onto his fingers. Messy was fine by Steve. 

Barnes opened his mouth in a silent gasp when the cool, smooth liquid hit skin, Steve’s fingers pushing down slowly between his ass cheeks. “Oh,” he breathed.

Steve watched carefully for any sign of discomfort as he rubbed his fingers insistently downwards, finding the tight furl of muscle he was aiming for and teasing it with his fingertips. Barnes tilted his hips and pushed more insistently back against Steve’s thighs, putting a sharp dip in his spine. Steve pushed himself back upright to properly take in the view.

“Why would you ever be invisible. When you look like this.” The words were low and serious.

Barnes flushed even to the back of his neck and turned his face down into the blankets.

“Ah, ah,” Steve brought his free hand back up to fasten around a sharp jaw again and turn the face back to the side, “don’t hide from me. Please.”

Barnes’ eyes opened and he peeked backward towards Steve, mouth open and cheeks crimson. The expression on his face so far had been quite neutral, if pleased, but at Steve’s words and the hand on his jaw it intensified into something reverent. Grey eyes sought Steve’s and Barnes was gazing at him like he was a hand to a drowning man.

Continuing his teasing rub at the softening muscles beneath his fingers, Steve smiled down at him, “You’re blushing, pretty thing.”

“Tell me–” Barnes broke off and shook his head.

“Tell you what?” Steve leaned back down closer and paused the movement of his searching fingers. He pressed a kiss to the back of Barnes’ neck, “Tell you how good you look? Tell you how great you feel under me? Tell you how you’re driving me crazy?” He ended on a throaty whisper.

“Tell me what you’re gonna do to me. Tell me you’re-” the small voice broke off again and Barnes closed his eyes. He pressed himself deep into the bedclothes, biting his lip before saying in the tiniest voice, “Tell me you’re gonna give me what I deserve.”

Everything felt electric. It was like the air itself crackled, and Steve was sure that if he rubbed his flat palm on the bedclothes, sparks would fly. Even just securing his gentle grip around Barnes’ mouth and jaw felt like pins and needles directly into his skin—as if Barnes was a source of electricity, of power, and Steve could feed off him. Dirty talk had never been much of a speciality of Steve’s, especially not in this century, where he was eternally afraid of putting his foot in his mouth, but the very singular thought of telling Barnes that he was about to get what he deserved was consuming his brain. Taking over his movements.

Uncaring of the sticky handprints he was making on the bed, Steve draped himself across the length of Barnes’ back and nuzzled down into his shoulder, “I’ll gladly tell you everything. I’ll tell you every detail of every little thing I want to do to you. And believe me, you deserve every bit of it.”

He felt the full-body shudder his words mustered up Barnes’ spine, and clamped both hands down on the narrowest part of the waist beneath him, “That sound good?”

“Yes. _Yes_. Tell me.”

“First,” Steve spoke directly into a mouthful of shoulder blade, “I’m gonna pour so much lube on your asshole you’d slide all the way from here to fifth avenue in two minutes flat.” Barnes allowed his mouth to ease into a smile, even as Steve’s fingers resumed their gentle probing. 

“Then,” Steve continued in a softer voice, “I’m going to finger you open right here, face down, ass up.” He paused to mouth a few more kissed into damp flesh, “And I’m going to fuck you into the bed. Maybe through it. I’m not going to touch your cock again until I’m done.”

Barnes groaned through closed lips and bucked his hips upwards under Steve’s hands, undulating against the sheets.

Steve continued, breath hot against Barnes’ ear, “You’re going to be begging me to finish, to hurry up and fuck you harder so you can have my hands on you, stroking you off. You want that?”

If the heated look Barnes threw over his shoulder was any indication, he wanted that very much.

“Words, Barnes. Use them.”

The heat intensified into something all consuming and Barnes opened his mouth. After a long moment he croaked, “Please, give it to me.”

Steve tightened his hands, feeling the lowest ribs against his knuckles, and pressed down, his weight pressing their bodies together tight. “Not so hard, is it. Asking for things instead of just taking them.”

Barnes gasped and squirmed against the blankets helplessly, canting his hips and clenching his fists fitfully. “ _Fuck_ you,” was whispered into a pillow that had somehow been comandeered and was now hiding Barnes’ face.

“Mm,” Steve smiled and peeled himself off Barnes’ back, pulling his fingers back from where they had undoubtedly left ten little bruises on a taut stomach to grab the pillow and toss it away, reclaiming his view of pink lips and long, dark lashes. He also resumed his careful, slick and slippery circling of Barnes’ asshole, pouring more from the bottle and getting both hands dirty and slick as he hiked Barnes back into his lap with one hand and slowly eased one fingertip past the tight ring of muscle at the same time.

Given a little more freedom to move now that Steve had sat upright and had both hands occupied, Barnes braced his elbows on the bed, bowing his back. He was muscled, if lean, and now that the red marks from his tight outfit and arsenal of knives had faded, Steve could appreciate that he was made to get himself into compromising positions. He had broad shoulders, but excessively mobile joints, the dip between his shoulder blades creating a dark hollow. His narrow hips and long legs were sleek and padded with muscle, yet Steve could see he would be able to slither through any number of narrow openings, the way his body could stretch out like a cat, or compress down into a thicker, sturdier form.

A long groan of pleasure brought Steve back to what he was doing. His first finger was knuckle deep now, gently thrusting against the tight warmth coating it. Looking down, Steve watched for a while as the muscles slowly undulated against the pressure of his hand, his thumb gently pressing on the soft skin between balls and asshole, stroking.

Barnes pushed back into his lap, circling his hips, and Steve looked up to find he was being watched from under one shoulder. “Please,” Barnes breathed, “Please. More.”

Naturally, Steve complied. Gathering the slippery lube on his second finger to add to the first, he gently pressed in, then pulled out, turning his wrist slowly, watching intently as his movements caused a rippling down Barnes’ spine.

Stroking one hand slowly in and out, and the other in long, languid strokes down hip and thigh, there wasn’t much of Barnes’ ass, lower back and thighs that wasn’t slippery and glistening with lube and sweat by the time Steve was satisfied that he was loose and relaxed enough for any more steps in their plan.

“Hey,” Steve slowly dropped his weight back down, still thrusting two fingers languidly in and out, altering his angle intermittently and enjoying the way it elicited shivers and gasps. Resting his weight against the bedclothes on one elbow, he could look directly into Barnes’ face.

Darkened eyes gazed back at him, and Steve felt hunger claw at his insides. Hunger to claim those lips and bite. Pushing himself closer, he did just that, closing his mouth over Barnes’ lips, sucking on his tongue and almost rolling his languid partner clean over with urgent, pressing kisses.

“Are you ready for me?” Steve accompanied his words with more kisses, sucking and nibbling at Barnes’ jaw and ear, laying wet, hot lips to his neck.

“Yes,” was about all Steve allowed Barnes to get out between kisses. Ceasing the lazy thrust of his fingers, Steve slowly pulled them free, reaching for the condom abandoned on the blankets. He tossed away with wrapping and carefully slid it over the hot, hard head of his cock, groaning at the feel of even just these meagre touches on his cock. Now he had started touching himself it was hard to stop, but he soon returned his hands to the body beneath him, pressing himself in close.

Leaning his weight on his elbow, lips fastened to the back of Barnes’ neck where dark hair was shaved away into short, soft hairs, Steve pulled sharp hips up into him. “You’re so good,” he hissed, breathing in deep, “feel so good.”

Barnes just lay beneath him, stretched out and waiting, ass pressed up against the apex of Steve’s hips. His arms were once more bracketed in by Steve’s, preventing him from moving around or touching anything—sandwiched between supersoldier and the bed.

“Steve.”

It was the first time Barnes had used his name.

“Yeah.” Steve panted, fingers flexing on soft flesh, “That’s me.”

“Steve,” Barnes grunted again, “Fuck me.” He was pushing back, bracing his knees more firmly on the mattress.

And with an animalistic sound he had never heard from his own mouth before, Steve pressed his fingers to the top of the slick, soft hole and sank his cock inside, the head pressing into yielding heat. Releasing Barnes’ hip, he braced on the bed and lost himself to being enveloped by hot softness. The body against his shuddered with the sound of Barnes’ moans, and it urged him on, deeper.

Elbows deep in the blankets, he returned his hand to Barnes’ jaw, feeling his slack mouth open in a never ending, silent exclamation. Sliding two fingers inside, Steve pressed down slightly on the rough tongue inside, feeling damp lips close around his knuckle as Barnes began to suck.

Steve drew in a breath of warm, damp sweat-scented air. “Are you ready to get what you deserve.”

Barnes' throat vibrated around a loud exclamation, thoroughly muffled by Steve’s fingers. He felt Barnes attempt to breathe through his mouthful, choke gently and then groan again. The cheek under Steve’s thumb burned scarlet.

Fully seated now, his cock fully encompassed by the hot, tightness of Barnes’ asshole, braced on his elbows and pulled taught like a bow, Steve found his breath ragged in his chest, every inhale a crushing pressure on his own will not to thrust his hips downwards with his entire weight behind them and pound the soft, forgiving flesh of Barnes’ ass.

A kittenish lick from Barnes’ tongue brought him back from frozen inaction. Held down tight, his knees spread and braced against the bed, he could barely rock up into the thick cock pressed deep inside him, so it seems licking was the only avenue left to him to encourage Steve to _get moving_. Steve had even taken his words from him.

Steve drew his fingers slowly back past swollen lips before sliding them back inside again, following the movement with his hips. He picked up a rhythm of long, slow, slick thrusts that made Barnes’ eyes roll back and his eyelashes flicker.

“Fuck,” Steve huffed a laugh as he watched his fingers slide in and out of a pink, slack mouth and simultaneously let his hips push heavily down, gradually pounding the body under his into the bed. “Fuck, Barnes. That’s filthy.”

Barnes merely flicked his gaze back towards him for a moment before pressing his tongue up against the digits invading his mouth and sucking lewdly.

Steve groaned and lifted his free hand to slide it under hips that were slowly losing height to haul them back up into his, making his slow thrusts harder, deeper.

Drawing his fingers free of the warm, wetness of an inviting mouth, Steve trailed a glistening line of Barnes’ spit up a sharp cheekbone and over one ear, before sinking his fingers into sweaty curls and pulling.

Readjusting his weight, he got himself mostly upright again, dragging Barnes’ head with him. He kept his grip gentle, but firm, keeping his control of the body against his even as he released Barnes’ arms, which immediately came up to brace on the bed.

Newly permitted to talk, Barnes wasted no time in gurgling a litany of curses ending in a muddled combination of ‘Steve’ and ‘please’. Which did amazing things to Steve’s roaring libido, which had been screaming at him to fuck harder, take more, grip tighter since the first moment he had felt Barnes’ heartbeat begin to hammer under his grip.

Then Barnes, head tipped back, back bowed and chest still pushed deep into the bedclothes, groaned, “Gimme it, Steve. Give me what I deserve.”

And after that it was just a few more minutes of desperate thrusts, Barnes’ fingers scrabbling at the grip Steve had on his hair, Steve sinking his teeth into the tight muscles of a sweaty shoulder. Sliding his hand under Barnes’ heaving stomach, Steve took a loose grip on his dripping cock and stroked along with his erratic thrusting.

They were moaning together now, each lost in chasing the end, the climax that was sparkling along every inch of the skin beneath Steve’s mouth. He lapped at it, tasting it and searching for more of it.

“Steve,” Barnes’ voice sent a spike of sweetness straight through him. “Steve, fuck, I’m gonna–”

And when he came, Barnes’ body turned to butter under Steve’s hands. Warm, slippery liquid coated his fingers and he spread it shamelessly on the soft, relaxed plane of Barnes’ stomach, along with his fingers. Collapsing forward one last time onto his elbow, Steve hissed through the sensation of muscles rippling around his cock, tightening everything to the point of excruciating.

A few uncontrolled thrusts of his hips later, and Steve was coming, clenching every muscle in his stomach before everything came undone and he sank down, a great, inescapable blanket of sweaty supersoldier across Barnes’ back.

It was a long moment, but before Steve would comfortably admit it was over, a disgruntled voice complained, “Heavy. Please. God. Get off me.”

Steve chuckled and rolled off to lie on his back, keeping his legs tangled amongst his bed mates’. He slid the condom off and rolled it carelessly in a tissue before abandoning it to the floor.

“Barnes,” he rolled the word around his mouth, letting it become more than a name. “Probably shouldn’t shout that while I come all over you, huh. James?”

“It’s Bucky.” Still face down and apparently content to remain that way, Barnes – Bucky – moved only to tuck his arms comfortably under his stomach, probably rubbing come and sweat even deeper into Steve’s ruined bed sheets.

“Bucky? Not Invisiboy?” Steve let the tips of his fingers trail over the damp skin in Barnes’ lower back, “The Invisible Man.”

One dark eye peeked at him from under a tumble of ruined curls, “This may come as a shock to you, _Captain America_ , but not all of us have a need for fancy superhero alter ego names.”

“No,” Steve rolled back onto his side to put his mouth on the fresh-tasting, salty skin of Bucky’s spine, “because not all of us are superheroes. Some of us are super villains. Little thieving super villains.”

Bucky did laugh at that, even if it was quiet and muffled in a pillow. “Oh sure, villainous. I stole some diamonds, your honour, I demand my villain card and a secret base inside a mountain.”

Steve sat up, regretfully pulling away from the boneless, soft and pretty body he was enjoying looking at. “Let’s get this super villain cleaned up, then.”

The bathroom light was blinding compared to the dim heat of his bedroom, but Steve squinted through it and ran the warm water, dunking a couple of washcloths and wringing them out. He cleaned himself off with splashing handfuls of water from the sink, rubbing away the evidence of their mid-afternoon tryst. He looked at himself in the mirror as he wrung out the cloths and admired the freshly-tousled peaks of his hair. It had been a long time since he’d experienced a really satisfying afterglow. He’d forgotten that it suited him.

After drying off just enough not to drip too much, he took the washcloths and towel with him to the bedroom.

Only to find the bed empty, lacking even the telltale indent of an invisible body.

Steve sighed and turned back around to toss the cloths in the laundry.

“Well, it was nice having you, Bucky. Shame you had to go.”

It was highly likely Barnes was still in the apartment, if not still in the room, but it didn’t seem right to have stroked, pinched, kissed and fucked him through being a lovely view in Steve’s arms only to continue making demands afterwards. Even if he was a thief.

Pulling on a pair of underwear then soft sweatpants from the closet, Steve rubbed a damp hand through his hair and moseyed out into the living room. The suit of black spandex had disappeared, as had the sneakers and all of the knives, but the pile of confiscated items remained and so (Steve sighed in relief) did the vibranium shield.

“Thanks, Bucky,” he said to the empty room. Then, “JARVIS, new protocols for James Barnes.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Give him access to this apartment pending vocal confirmation. Security level 3.”

“Yes, sir. I shall hold his voice scan as security protocol for your apartment,” JARVIS confirmed. “Should I inform you when he uses his access?”

Steve considered for a moment, sitting on the sofa to sift through credit cards and watches. “Tell me when he enters the apartment. No need to let me know when he leaves. Unlock the doors now, thank you, JARVIS.”

“As you wish, Captain.”

It wasn’t until around an hour later, when Steve had gone back to his book, sprawled on the sofa, somehow much better able to concentrate now than he had been earlier, that he heard the sound of the front door opening and closing.

Getting slowly to his feet, he felt his heartbeat thunder in his chest. He had known, of course, that it was impossible for Barnes to have left while the apartment doors had been locked, but the complete silence had almost convinced him that the little thief had long slipped away.

Walking into the front hallway, he found a strange addition to the bare, white wall beside the front door. In the very middle, a long knife was embedded into the smooth paintwork. Steve suspected it was the lethal number Barnes had kept strapped to his left wrist. Pinned beneath it was a piece of Steve’s note paper which sat, unused, beside the phone in his kitchen.

On it was a phone number, and a tiny, scrawled, ‘see you later’.

  


by [sublimepigeon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sublimepigeon/pseuds/sublimepigeon)

**Author's Note:**

> Please. Give me praise, it's my favourite.
> 
> Thank you to my three cheerleaders and tireless betas, [Brokenwords](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brokenwords/pseuds/Brokenwords), [scrambledscript](https://twitter.com/scrambledscript) and [sumblimepigeon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sublimepigeon/pseuds/sublimepigeon) who also created the art we all needed, Bucky Barnes in a catsuit.
> 
> Come play with me on Twitter [@im_weapon](https://twitter.com/im_weapon) for more weaponized bullshit.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * A [Restricted Work] by [sublimepigeon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sublimepigeon/pseuds/sublimepigeon) Log in to view. 




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